The Sad Little Racing Car: A Children's Short Story

Updated on March 6, 2013

A Racing Ferrari Bred for Success

When I was young, I had a dream, a vision. In my vision I saw children laughing and squealing with delight. I saw their wide eyes and innocent expressions, their faces a picture of pure enchantment. It was my dream to play a part in bringing that joy to as many children as possible. But it never came to pass.

You see, I was the product of a mixed marriage. My father was a Ferrari (made in Italy) and my mother was a Corvette (made in the USA). They both have strong racing pedigrees, and so they had great plans for me. They wanted me to be the fastest sports car in the world, a champion. They had visions of me winning the Le Mans 24 hour race; my photograph on the front page of every newspaper. A celebrity supercar. This was their dream for me. Their dream not mine.

So, I became a racing Ferrari, just to please them. I never went through the normal factory building process, no, I was built by hand by the most skilled craftsmen, I was in the “superstream”, tweaked and tuned for maximum horsepower, then tested and honed until I was at the peak of engineering excellence.

When I was finished I really was a sight to behold. My super-smooth, carbon fibre skin painted Ferrari red, my flared wheel arches, fat tires, and the noise I made. Well, it was quite something I can tell you. And my parents were so proud, so happy.

For a while, I was happy too, but I could never really forget that I had never wanted to be a racing Ferrari at all. Yes I could go round bends quicker than anyone, I was the fastest accelerating car on the circuit, but what good was all that if I was unhappy? I could look in the mirror and admire my sleek curves, my huge spoiler, my super-firm suspension, but all I felt was misery. This was not me. This was not who I wanted to be.

You won’t laugh if I tell you what my dream was, will you? Well, you see, my dream when I was just a youngster, was to be a seaside car. You know, one that you put money in for a brief ride; one that goes round and round; one which children love to ride in. I imagined myself taking one child after another for a ride on my bright red leather seats, hearing their laughter and sharing in their childish innocence and joy.

The Little Ferrari Rebels

I never wanted to go round and round a racetrack. I never cared about winning either, or about being “the best”. I am not even competitive. I would have been blissfully happy as a seaside car; a car that can’t go anywhere except round and round in circles, fixed to the ground. But of course my parents would never have allowed it. Never. The shame of it. What would they say to their friends at the annual sports car rally? Oh, our little one is a seaside joy ride. The humiliation, the ridicule.

But, I would have been happy. Isn’t that what matters most?

So I rebelled.

It was when I was racing around the track one day, and I just thought, what’s the point? Another race won, another trophy in the cupboard. That was when I decided to skid off the track and lose the race. My owners were furious. They couldn’t understand it. Everything had been going so well.

They tried to fix me, to return me to my former racing glory, but nothing worked. My heart was no longer in it you see. The will had gone. So my owners gave up on me, and put me out to grass.

And so here I sit, a sad little red racing Ferrari. People still come to see me. Some still remember my greatest triumphs. They “ooh” and “aah” as they read the plaque displayed in front of me, and briefly recall my grandest victories.

Since my owners took out my driveshaft I can’t move any more. I’m immobilized; just a shell really, but with a nice coat of fresh paint to impress the visitors.

It’s just a thought, a funny thought, but if they could just sit me on a motor which goes round and round, then I could still take the children for rides, couldn’t I? Maybe it’s not too late after all? Do you think there’s still a chance?

Whistling is a dying art. No-one whistles walking down the street anymore, and hardly anyone whistles at work. This is a shame, as there are many benefits to be gained from it.

Comments 1 comment

healthwealthmusic 4 years ago from Everywhere Online ~ Fingerlakes ~ Upstate New York

I love this story! I am a lover of great sports and muscle cars. My story would be about a Corvette though ;P I love Corvettes and will own one someday... If you had a few good pictures on this hub it would make it even better! I would have loved to 'Pin' this onto my Hot Cars board on Pinterest!